


Dying to Feel Again

by Sinca



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Happy, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinca/pseuds/Sinca
Summary: Sometimes it gets too much. Sometimes she feels agony while still feeling nothing at all.





	Dying to Feel Again

It’s too much. It’s all too much.

Kara couldn’t get her mind to stop moving. She couldn’t get the thoughts out of her head.

The phantom zone...24 years...she watched her planet die, watched it fold in on itself and explode, the video replaying over and over in her mind in those decades she spent, trapped in her mind.

Her parents. She’d lost everyone. Every single person she had loved. Even Kal. Sure he was still alive, but he couldn’t remember Krypton. He didn’t know what it was like or how it felt for it to be torn away.

And now she was Supergirl. The whole world expected her to be unbreakable. Infallible.

But she wasn’t.

Even steel can bend under too much pressure. Too much heat.

Even Supergirl can crack sometimes.

She spends so much time being a hero, but she can’t save herself.

So she doesn’t.

She flies home after a rough night. There were just a few too many emergencies. A few too many people. A few too many fires. A few bodies. A few too many bodies.

The last one marks the 137th person she couldn’t save since becoming Supergirl.

She stood in her apartment, not seeing the walls around her. Not hearing the sounds of the city. Still feeling the blood of the man she was too late for.

She walked into her bedroom numbly, moving around as though dragged by strings. She shook her head, trying to clear it, before getting an idea and shooting back out her window.

 

Sometimes she cursed her powers. She loved that they let her help others but she hated being so impervious. She could really use a drink right now, but the only thing that even gave her a buzz was at the alien bar and she really didn’t want to be around people she knew right now.

She wanted a hug but she couldn’t even remember what they really felt like. Back on Krypton, they’d engulfed her, filling her with life and love. Here...she could barely feel them. She could barely feel anything.

She flew outside of town, away from prying eyes, up, up, up. High above the clouds until the air became thin and she could almost, almost feel the burn in her lungs.

Almost. But not quite.

So, she dropped. Folded her arms into herself, held her cape still, closed her eyes, and plummeted.

She was glad she was far outside the city. Hopefully the shockwave wouldn’t reach them. And what a shockwave it was.

 

She lay face down in the middle of the crater she’d made, willing herself to feel pain, adrenaline, something. Willing herself to stay down. Willing the world to swallow her.

 

Eventually, she had to go back. The moon was high in the sky by now, passing its apex. She flew back to her apartment, shaking off the dust and rubble from her suit.

She found herself back in her bedroom, moving again as though guided by an invisible puppeteer. She found herself in the bathroom, lifting up a loose tile, pulling out a box. She found herself staring down at the sickly green glow of the piece of kryptonite inside, her eyes wild with anticipation, trepidation, excitement.

She took the gem from its lead casing, admiring it blearily, before wrapping her fingers around it.

She closed her eyes, relishing in the sting, the burn, as the kryptonite sapped her powers and set her cells on fire, eating through the flesh of her palm.

She grabbed her razor quickly, unwilling to release the moment, and sliced into her skin. Just a few small cuts. Just enough to make her bleed.

She stared at her own blood in awe. She was still alive. She was bleeding so she was still alive. Wasn’t she?

Of course she was. She could hear her own heartbeat! She could see the blood pumping through her veins before dribbling through the break in her skin.

But does it really count as living if you can’t enjoy it? If you can’t feel the world around you? Can’t love for fear it’ll be used against you? Is it really living if she’s just living a lie?

She drops the razor, moving from numb, to pain, to agonizing sadness in seconds. She lets out a heart wrenching wail, crying for the world she lost and the one she still didn’t fit into.

She peeled opened her palm, the green rock pulsating in her burnt and bloody hand.

Lifting the kryptonite to her chest, she pressed it over her heart, closing her eyes. She felt the burn, felt the pain, and decided that at least she’d feel something one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> Please make sure to reach out and get help if you're experiencing any desire to hurt yourself or kill yourself. Even if you think you aren't worth it, trust me, you are. I've been through it and I've come out the other side (most days). As trite as it sounds, it DOES get better. You just have to give yourself a chance. And you deserve a chance.


End file.
